


Unmistakably October

by unknowableroom_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Action, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-01-30
Updated: 2006-01-30
Packaged: 2019-01-19 10:53:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12408969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unknowableroom_archivist/pseuds/unknowableroom_archivist
Summary: Harry Potter has been away from Hogwarts for two years. Coming back from 'the dead' will be harder than he thought, as he begins pulling his life back together as "Trot Harame" the DADA professor. However, re-meeting an engaged Ginny Weasley makes hunting Horcruxes look like a piece of cake.





	Unmistakably October

**Author's Note:**

> Note from ChristyCorr, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Unknowable Room](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Unknowable_Room), a Harry Potter archive active from 2005-2016. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after May 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Unknowable Room collection profile](http://www.archiveofourown.org/collections/unknowableroom).

 

Chapter One: Worse Before Better 

It was unmistakably October. The warm air coming from the lake blending with the chilly freeze of the nearby mountains was strangely welcome and comfortable to the figure standing upon the hill. Leaves cluttered about the ground did not make any noise beneath his booted feet as he had climbed to the precipice, looking out over the rolling hills to the castle in front of him.

It was strange, how the grounds of Hogwarts seemed so untouched--unmarred by the seas of time, while the figure felt suddenly gnarled, bent from his many sorrowful years of walking the earth. It had been two years since he had laid eyes on the castle, but it felt as if he was looking on it for the first time in twelve years. He suddenly felt his feet slip even tighter into his godfather’s shoes, almost wondering if his hair had lengthened, and his face had taken on the ghostly visage of the famous Sirius Black.

It hadn’t, of course. His hand rubbed along the sharp contour of his cheek, his reassurance being in the short bristly beard that Sirius never would have allowed to grow. However, he had never felt more like his dead godfather than he did in that moment, gazing upon the school that housed so many happy memories, but still standing outside the splendor. The single tear that ran down his cheek glistened in the moonlight.

His bright green eyes traveled keenly over the landscape, taking in every change. They were drawn almost immediately to the huge white tomb that housed the body of Albus Dumbledore. His heart twisted in black anger, a thousand images flashing through his head. It had been too easy to forget about all this, being millions of miles away. He never realized that his actions had drifted far from his original purpose, putting a gap between who he was now and who he used to be. Harry turned away. 

It was time to go back.

 

 * * *

Minerva McGonagall pulled her glasses off, sighing deeply and allowing her head to sink into her folded hands. It had been a long day, and she had gotten no closer to finding any answers. She had become so desperate in her search for a Defense teacher that she had tried asking every single Order member, and the last flood of owls had arrived today, every single one of them a refusal. She had considered teaching the subject herself, but they were well into the year, and she had no one else to teach Transfiguration. If only Dumbledore were here...

Her head snapped up, blue eyes blazing. She may be old and an inadequate follow-up to Albus, but she knew he would not want her to despair. Albus had never despaired, even towards the end. But that was back when there had been something to fight for--a young man to protect. Now, Harry Potter was not at Hogwarts.

The Headmistress stood up, suddenly uncomfortable in Albus’ old armchair. Her mind drifted back to the final farewell, when Potter and his friends had finally left Hogwarts. 

It had been only about a half an hour since Albus’ burial, and Minerva had followed the bright red hair of the youngest Weasley male, knowing who he was going to, and wanting to speak to Potter herself. She had reached the lakeside without being spotted by the trio, and she had wished she hadn’t. The look on Potter’s face told her everything. Her stomach had filled with a cold dread that she could not name, and then he had looked up, finally seeing his wizened Professor hidden amongst the reeds.

He had come to her later, speaking of all that he planned to do, and telling her a secret that she dared not reveal to anyone, not even Remus Lupin. Harry was leaving Hogwarts to hunt the Horcruxes of Voldemort. Her face still paled at the memory. 

Of course, Granger and the Weasley boy had accompanied him, breaking the hearts of not only the Hogwarts students, but the entire Order of the Phoenix as well. No one knew their purpose, or even their destination, except for Minerva. They were only told that the trio was leaving Hogwarts to join the fight against Voldemort. 

It had been two years. Two long years since anyone had any hope. The Order was deteriorating, Hogwarts was in complete disarray, and Voldemort and his minions continued to murder more and more each week. The dread years had returned, and it seemed like their only savior had disappeared.

The Headmistress sighed again, glancing in the mirror and wondering where all of her youth had gone. Then she smiled grimly. It had been buried in the grave of Albus Dumbledore, along with any of the hope she had ever had about coming out of this alive. It was only a matter of time, really.

She poured herself a cup of tea, unaware that it had become extremely late. Right now she put everything from her mind except the next week’s lesson plans, completely oblivious to the fact that Hope was, indeed, crawling slowly along the passage from Hogsmeade into Hogwarts, his messy hair becoming filled with grime and dirt.

* * *

_It’s all right. Riddle’s finished. Look! Him_ and _the basilisk. C’mon, Ginny, let’s get out of here._ __

Ginny, listen, I can’t be involved with you any more. We’ve got to stop seeing each other. We can’t be together.

__

The seventeen-year-old tossed violently in her bed, characteristically ripping off the covers and her socks. She had broken into a cold sweat. It was odd, how the nightmares had been getting continually worse for the past couple of days.

Had she been awake, she would have snorted derisively. It was foolish to even hope that no one had noticed. She bet the entire bloody _tower_ had noticed! It was hard not to with her continued shrieking and trembling in her sleep. She felt sorry for her dorm-mates.

Suddenly, her amber eyes opened, and she sat up with a jerk. The band on her finger seemed to be burning, and she hesitantly pulled it off and look at it.

It was simple in it’s beauty--a single gold loop encrusted with a diamond and two rubies. She smiled, thinking of Neville’s happy face when he presented it to her. Then her smile dissipated as the words from her dream came back to her.

_Harry!_ she had screamed. Her face turned white. What if she suddenly shouted the name of a dead man on her and Neville’s honeymoon? Ginny shuddered at the thought. Neville would be horrified.

Maybe her mother had been right. It was foolish to want to want to be married so young--with her not even graduated from Hogwarts yet. But Neville was the only peace in her life, boring as he was. They simply loved each other, and no one was about to change the youngest Weasley’s mind when she set it on something.

Actually, Ginny wasn’t the only one going around Hogwarts wearing an engagement ring these days. Why, just the other day she had overheard Romilda Vane and Chandra Roberts _ooh_ ing about their fiancees and comparing ring sizes. Ginny had snarled at them, asking them if they had nothing better to do but look pretty while there was a war going on.

“Oh hush up, Weasley. You’re only sulking because your dead boyfriend didn’t make the front page this week.” Romilda had snapped back. It was then that Ginny had realized that the content of her nightmares was well-known.

“No he didn’t, did he? I notice _your_ boyfriend hasn’t been around as much, Vane. Is he getting too involved with his Slytherin buddies? Wouldn’t want _his_ death to be making the front page, would we?”

Ginny’s remark had effectively silenced the titters, partially because it was also well-known that Ginny was extremely outspoken in the anti-Voldemort movement and was not afraid to hurl a few curses to defend her position. Romilda had flushed, humiliated that Ginny would reveal her secrets to the entire common room without batting an eye.

Weasley always had been a little extreme, Romilda thought. It was even worse, now that she had authority as Head Girl. No one dared to oppose her, not even the professors. Romilda scoffed, thinking of how witless they all must be, not to have said a word when the red-haired Weasley had shown up at Hogwarts engaged to the new Herbology professor. Ginny had stood up then, leaving the Common Room in shocked silence as she slammed the portrait hole door, stalking off towards the kitchens.

Now, lying in her bed, Ginny found that she did not have as much bravery. She was away from all of the action, and it was five o’clock in the morning. This was the only time of the day that she got to be alone with her thoughts. 

It was actually harder, seeing Neville every day, than it had been when he hadn’t been working at Hogwarts. She felt like she was being constantly watched, and Ginny hated that kind of supervision. 

Ginny’s eyes were pulled towards her bedside table, where three different picture frames were assembled. She glanced at the first one, a muggle-style picture of Neville with his arms around her on the front steps of Longbottom mansion. The next was brought tears to her eyes, as it always did when she saw a picture of her favorite brother. It was Ron, in his sixth year. He was wearing his Quiddich uniform and had his arm thrown lazily over a disgruntled-looking Hermione. 

She grinned, watching the pictures move. These represented happy memories, while she knew without even looking that this was not the case with the last picture. But she had to look. She couldn’t restrain herself. 

It was the last time she had ever seen him. They were at Fleur and Bill’s wedding, and Harry and Ginny were dancing out on the reception floor. The picture had been taken by her mother, and Ginny was glad, for once, that they hadn’t known that she was taking it. They were so wrapped up in each other, the look on their faces of such strangled love, that it was hard to notice that Neville was standing in the background, sipping punch and watching them dance with the rest of the crowd. 

Ginny sighed and rolled out of bed, slipping her sockless feet into her fluffy slippers before they touched the floor.

* * *

_”Damn!”_ Harry’s head smacked rudely against the top of the little stone passage that he had just climbed out through. “That seemed so much bigger when I was younger.” He said of the passage, smiling at the one-eyed witch statue that glared back at him.

Attempting to wipe dirt and grime off of his overcoat, Harry’s eyes scanned his surroundings. It was strange to be back in Hogwarts, and he was extremely exhilarated. However, he did not delude himself into thinking that he was safe. Whipping his hand into a pocket, he threw his invisibility cloak over himself and headed down the corridor.

In less than ten minutes, his booted feet had led him to the familiar entrance of the Headmaster’s chambers. A strange feeling-regret, sorrow, and pain so deep he gasped, came over him as soon as he saw the giant gargoyle staircase. 

“How many times will I have to guess this password?” he muttered quietly. He did not know what he would find in there, but he decided to try anyway.

“Um. Albus Dumbledore?” Nothing. _Duh._ he thought to himself. “Treacle tart, cockroach cluster…lemon drop, acid pops, fizzing whizbees…”

The gargoyle stared back at him with an almost mocking face. Harry continued on.

Half an hour later…

“Quiddich, snitch, broom, witch, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger…Harry Potter…G-“Before he could say another word, the gargoyle sprang to life and moved aside. Harry stared at it in astonishment. “Me? Why me?”

Shaking his head in astonishment, he stepped onto the moving staircase and ascended into the unknown.

* * *

“Aaand Friday. Give oral lecture on transfiguring howler monkeys…second years practice switching spells for practical exam and explain career advice to fifth years.“ Minerva finished her lesson plans with a flourish, dotting her last ‘I’ and laying her quill down on the table. 

Closing her notebook, she stood up from her desk and began placing everything back in it’s proper place. Just as she was closing the final drawer, however, she heard the door open.

Experience had taught her to have her wand at hand wherever she was, but getting older had caused her to be less wary in a place she thought was safe. So the Headmistress was caught wandless as her door opened and…nothing came in. 

She breathed a sigh of relief.

“Minerva McGonagall.” A deep, husky voice spoke from the shadows. The Headmistress jumped, her face turning white with fear.

“Who are you?” It was a foolish question, really, when she couldn’t even see _where_ the speaker was.

”Someone everyone thinks to be dead, apparently.” The voice replied sardonically. It was a familiar voice, and for some reason McGonagall thought of Dumbledore.

“Show yourself!” she screamed, lunging for her wand on the nightstand.

Harry pulled off his cloak, revealing his tall figure to the elderly woman in from of him. The wand she had just grabbed fell to the floor as she realized who she looked upon. Harry’s mouth, which had not felt a smile in so long, felt strangely normal once again as he smiled at his old professor. She looked utterly stunned.

“H-harry Potter.” She said in a whisper. Her fading blue eyes ran over everything, from his scuffed old boots to the very tips of his dirty black hair. “You’re alive.”

“I think so, anyway.” He said sarcastically. In a few seconds, the frail old woman was in his arms, hugging him so fiercely he thought he might break. He didn’t think she would ever know that she was the first person to even touch him since Bill Weasley’s wedding two years ago.

Minerva knew that she had forgotten herself, and she instantly turned back into the stern no-nonsense headmistress, pointing her wand at the intruder and quizzing him until she was absolutely sure that this young man was, indeed, Harry Potter.

Actually, she was having trouble believing this herself. He had grown much taller, and months of hunting for evil had toughened his once-skinny body into a mass of sinewy muscle. The sharp contours of his face were now lined with a few weeks’ worth of stubbly beard. This man looked nothing like the seventeen year old boy she had known two years ago.

“.. _Where_ on earth have you been all this time?” she snapped, surprising both of them. 

“I told you: hunting for Voldemort’s Horcruxes. This is something that only two people could help me with.” Harry said sharply. His weeks of being away from people had definitely put a damper on his people skills. He was exhausted and he wanted this familiar face to make everything right again. He was tired of being an outcast.

“No one knows you are here, do they?” McGonagall asked, suddenly shutting the door and looking around nervously. Harry shook his head in the negative, understanding her fear. If someone knew he was here, they would be dead by now.

“So, there’s very little I can go on here, Harry.” McGonagall said, sitting down on the edge of her bed and folding her hands in her lap. She looked defeated, as if Harry had somehow let her down. “What do you want? Why did you come here, if not for help?”

“I did come for help, but not the kind you want to give me. I’m sorry that I can’t tell you anymore than this: I need somewhere safe to stay for a while.” He said, raking his fingers through his dirty hair.

“How long is a while?” McGonagall asked, understanding that he couldn’t tell her anything. She even considered that he may be under Fidelius or something of the sort.

“Four months. Exactly four.” He answered immediately. McGonagall considered this, her brow furrowing as Harry’s haunted eyes bored into hers. There were a million things that complicated her decision. Earlier, she would have said yes immediately. Now, however…

She had forgotten how volatile Harry was. He was a dangerous person to be around, because he was so hunted. Everyone around him wanted to be a part of his life, and this was dangerous because this made it extremely hard for him to be secretive. It would be nearly impossible for Harry to hide out at Hogwarts.

However, the Headmistress in her was screaming _DEFENSE TEACHER_ with annoying clarity. She knew he would agree to work if she asked him, but she knew that they would have to work out a way for him to be invisible in a different sense.

“If I agree to let you stay, then you will have to let me form a disguise for you-along with a story that explains your presence.” Minerva said slowly, watching the relief wash visibly over the young man.

“Great! Excellent. Umm..as for a story, couldn’t I work for the castle or something? Maybe help Hagrid with groundskeeping.” He added, smiling again.

“Oh, but Potter…I have a much better job that you can do.”* * *

“Hallo! Ehm, Ginny!”

Ginny sighed as she walked towards the Gryffindor table. Neville was like clockwork. She knew if she looked up at the staff table, she would see his familiar smiling face as he waved at her. He would have a plateful of pancakes in front of him along with the characteristic pumpkin jujice.

She didn’t look up.

As she sat down in her familiar spot at the table, she knew something was amiss. No one in the hall was chitchatting as was usual, and Romilda Vane was nudging her in the side with her elbow. 

“What, Vane?” Ginny snapped, pulling some muffins towards herself.

“Have you seen the new teacher?” Romilda asked. This caught Ginny’s attention immediately. Her head snapped up and she forced herself to look at the staff table. Neville was sitting next to a figure swathed in a huge leather overcoat with the hood pulled up. 

“Defense, do you think?” Romilda said, trying to start up chitchat again.

“Obviously, you twat.” Ginny snarled, jumping to her feet. This could not be good. There had been no forewarning-nothing at all to hint that McGonagall had found a teacher. It couldn’t be one of the Order Members…could it? After all, he was built a bit like Remus.

Ginny shook her head. No, this new man was much too young to be any Order member that she was acquainted with. She sat back down in her seat and continued to stare.

She didn’t have to wait long before the Headmistress stood up. Everyone in the Hall knew that she was going to introduce their new teacher, and even the Slytherins kept quiet. McGonagall clapped her hands in a way similar to how Dumbledore used to, and stood at the front of the room.

“I know that you all are wondering about your new teacher.” She said, smiling in that tight-lipped way of hers. Ginny could tell that she was very worried about something. Her hands were twitching and her face was oddly flushed. This could not be good.

All of the possibilities ran through Ginny’s mind. Was this new teacher a Death Eater, who was forcing himself upon Hogwarts? Or was it someone she knew…bringing bad news about the war?

“This is your new Defense against the Dark Arts teacher-Professor Trot Harame.” As the Headmistress said this, the man in the coat stood up and threw back his hood, bowing gallantly to the crowd.

Ginny and every other woman in the room froze in their seats. This man, her new teacher, was absolutely the most handsome man she had ever seen. Tall and muscular, he had dark red hair that was parted neatly to the side, with a closely-trimmed goatee to match. His face was sharp and angular, his coloring giving him an exotic look.

But it was his eyes, his sparkling, deep green eyes that shocked Ginny into stillness. They were shiny and beautiful, something she’d only seen on one other person. However, they bore a haunted, dead look that Harry’s never had. 

And it was in that moment that Ginny Weasley locked eyes with her new professor. Even across the room she knew…knew that something was definitely very _very_ wrong here.

* * *

“ _Damn_ you McGonagall!” Harry spat, raking his hands furiously through his now-red hair. “Couldn’t you have told me??!”

“Told you what, exactly…Trot?” Minerva asked, folding her hands across her desk. She had to practice using his new name so she wouldn’t forget and accidentally call him ‘Harry’ by accident.

“About..about _her!!_ ” Harry nearly screamed, throwing himself into an armchair. They were seated in McGonagall’s office, and it was still two hours till either of them had a class. Minerva knew that this was going to be an extremely wearing talk. She hoped she would have time for a nap after it was over.

“Who might you be referring to?” she asked, although she knew very well that her hopes of his keeping hidden were banished the second he laid eyes on seventeen-year-old Ginny Weasley. She was incredibly worried.

“Ginny. Dammit! Ginny Weasley.” He practically yelled. “Couldn’t you have reminded me that she was here? Or told me that she was going to look so _god damn beautiful_?!”

“Oh, Harry. I’m so sorry. How could I forget to tell you about another one of the people that you walked out on? I’m devastated that this is having an effect on you, really.” Minerva’s patience was short-always had been.

Well, at least it stopped his fuming. Although now, he looked like he wanted to cry.

“Damn. This is going to be harder than I thought, isn’t it?”

“It will get worse before it gets better.” McGonagall said coolly. “By the way-she’s engaged.”

* * * 


End file.
